


Dimensional Transplant

by ZetaSol



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Death, Deviates From Canon, F/F, F/M, I Don't Even Know, I'm Sorry, M/M, Multi, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 16:10:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14116026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZetaSol/pseuds/ZetaSol
Summary: Del came from a world of the future, where humans were hailed as the apex of technology and had discovered immortality, becoming practical Gods.The emergence of Del threatened these new so-called Gods, as she held powers completely unheard of in her era, powers that could rival Gods, for the old blood ran in her veins.So for hundreds of years she had been pursued and hunted relentlessly,  labeled as the "Apostate", until one day she discovers that they had captured an old friend. Loyal to her peers, she turns back and tracks down the kidnappers to rescue him...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oof.  
> I’m just fulfilling my old fantasies through writing. I love secret, alien, and showy powers in alternate universes. It's the usual trope with some twists.  
> BTW I changed my mind. I'm too lazy to research anything in Dragon Age. LOL. I forgot about Skyrim.

 

No sound was made. Her steps were silent, swift, and her lithe figure passed like the wind that whistled in her opponents’ ears. A figure sat in the center of a lit room, their head in a sack, arms struggling in their bonds. In the darkness, hiding behind pillars and broken walls, Del stalked the masked guards that stood around their prisoner, until one of them suddenly called her out, “Hey!” Del froze. “Who the hell’s lurking!?”

Del furrowed her thin, dark brows. She couldn't believe that her presence was compromised. There was no way it was possible. How did they know she was here? She had just entered the building.

“I know you're here! Come out!”

Del cursed silently and hurriedly revised her tactics. She knew they were special operators of the military, but they shouldn't had detected her. The winds were strong enough to deafen the ears of a bat and the storm howled throughout the architecture of the rundown building. It was unexpected, but they were somehow alerted nonetheless. Things would have to be solved differently it seemed.

_Bloodshed it is. I have very little power in me left, but it's enough to handle them._

Slowly, Del stepped out from the shadows. The shiny matte, purple of her motorcycle helmet revealed glowing under the light. She looked down on these men, although physically they literally looked down on her.

The tall, bulky soldier’s gaze glossed over Del’s small figure with disdain.

“Yer lucky our guns don't work. We'd had shot you dead,” he said, frowning and crossing his muscled, veiny arms. “You're a bit small for a God.”

“Shut your mouth Jonse,” a man said and shoved the bulky thug out of the way with a murderous glare. “Show our guest some hospitality.”

The newcomer was shorter, and an oriental like Del, but he still stood taller than her like the rest. One trait that labeled him special among them was that he wore no mask, but a finely tailored suit and tie.

_Arrogance at its finest._

Del gave the classy gentleman a steel stare, daring the man to do or say anything.

“You are...?”

The man bowed in a gentlemanly manner. “Greetings, ‘Apostate’,” he said and grinned, his teeth blindingly white. Del was unnerved by his introduction. “We knew you were coming.”

A shudder suddenly tore down Del’s spine in flaring speed. It was impossible. No one should had known she was coming. The sole person who knew was…

_No… it couldn't be…_

The man's smile grew wider as Del’s eyes widened in realization.

“Fucking Menson!?” Del screamed.

The man’s maniacal smile was unperturbed as he answered, “Yes.”

“Why!? He's a defector!”

The man laughed, just loud enough to be heard beyond the stormy winds, and he shook his head.

“We've been working with him all along. He was no defector.”

Del took a small step back, confused. “B-But…”

“And there was no ‘hostage’ in the first place!” the asian man shouted. His laugh continued, growing louder until it turned into a full-out boisterous cackle.

“Where's my fucking friend!?” Del screamed, shoving her way past the grunts. She stamped her foot onto the tile in front of the prisoner, cracking it, and pulled the sack off their head. What was revealed was instead a faceless human-like head, bobbing about in recognizably mechanical motion, taunting her.

_A mannequin… a decoy… he lied..._

“We are all a part of an organization you never knew and of which you will now never know of, Del,” the oriental said, placing emphasis on his name.

“How the hell do you know my name?!” Del roared, her fists clenching, and fingers digging into her palms.

“You'll never know.”

Adrenaline suddenly rushed throughout Del’s body, enough to drive a behemoth into a mad fury. She fed on it and dashed to her enemy with inhuman speeds. The guards around seemed to had slowed in time from Del’s view, their expressions full of delayed surprise and slowed shock at her initiation, but the man that stood ahead of her was as calm and grinning as ever. Del could had sworn that his eye flashed red for a nanosecond, but she was too far in her attack to hesitate.

That is, until she saw a glint of metal from the man’s left side and the his lips straightening from his smile. Del instantly diverted her pathing to her own left, desperately trying to avoid whatever the man had in hand.

With blinding speed, comparable to Del’s, the man whipped his katana out from its sheath and slashed the area of which Del almost crossed, seemingly tearing through even the air itself so strongly it formed a vacuum. The sleeve of his right arm tore from pressure, revealing the metal sheen of his bionic arm, and his right eye glowed bright crimson, following Del around as she quickly circled around to evade him.

_He uses a sword!_

The suited cyborg twirled around, matching Del’s speed, viciously lashing out with his blade like a sharp whirlwind, and returned the blade to his sheathe. Without delay, he continued his attack. Del, with all her skill and agility managed to dodge most of his attacks, but the metal man was relentless.

_And it's a damn monomolecular!_

The two danced around for a few minutes and the others stood as far as they could and watched on. Concrete walls, columns, and steel infrastructure were all decimated in their little duel. Soon, Del felt herself wearing down little by little. She needed to go on the offensive so she waited, until finally, the man had an opening, one that seemed almost deliberate, but of which Del took advantage of anyways. She broke the blade in half with her forearm and got the lead on him, fist charging to relieve her itch to crash it into the man's cheek. The aura around her fist glowed distinctly golden. Then to her surprise, he abruptly dropped his sheathe as she closed in on him, much to Del’s befuddlement, and a small, blurry object could be seen in his hand from the corner of Del’s eye, shining white and granting her unease in that very instant.

She landed a powerful punch to his face, literally breaking off half his metal jaw, and the nanomites that made it up were obliterated to an atomic level. Before anything else though, she suddenly felt a blaring pain in the flesh of her thigh. 

_Bastard injected me!_

Del immediately kicked him and dashed away, clutching her thigh, and she tore the needle out before any more damage was done and threw it away. White liquid splashed everywhere from the syringe as it broke into pieces, but in mere moments, Del became slow and lightheaded. The strength in her body drained away, failing her, and she wavered. Momentarily, she was subject to the laws of gravity, and as her vision blurred, she fell into its embrace. Many of the henchmen on the sidelines came in and pulled her up. One yanked her helmet off. Before Del could lift her head up, a metal fist was planted in her stomach and her back slammed unto the concrete floor. The cyborg crouched down and held his hand out to clutch her exquisite chin. With half-jawed amusement he examined her face as it was contorted in pain.

“A pity,” he said.

She laid coughing for some time in fetal form, then began convulsing like a beached shark as the poisonous pain spread from her thigh to throughout her entire body.

“What… did you do to me?” Del asked, practically sputtering out her words, struggling to talk through her clenching teeth. “This shouldn't… be able to affect me…”

“We'll it isn't a tranquilizer or sedative.” The cyborg smiled as he stood up and massaged his split jaw. Metal particles floated from a vial in his hands and restored it. “But it was made just for you.”

Del smiled too, grimly. “I guess… I'm special then,” she said jokingly between her heavy breaths.

“This is the end, Apostate,” he picked his sheathe back up and dusted it off.”

“Eat shit.” Del coughed and spat blood at the cyborg’s feet.

“How unsanitary,” the sadistic man said and kicked Del in the abdomen. She groaned in pain and held her stomach. He flipped her over, her back to the floor, and with his broken katana, he straddled her. He leaned down, holding it above Del’s neck, pointed downwards, and ready to run through her smooth gullet.

“You were the first and last of your sort. It's a pity,” his breath was on her face, smelling of a strange mix between blood and roses.

“I don't need your damned pity… and I don't give a damn whoever the hell you and your people are.”

_They can be illuminati for all I care._

He gently lifted a lock of her hair and nestled it against his nose, taking her smell in. “Your looks, your smell, as sweet as your prickly  character ,” he said. “But enough theatrics.” He remorselessly plunged his sword into Del’s thin neck.

But strangely he was blocked, by bright shield of absolute white forming around the area of which he struck. He frowned. No one had noticed that the storms had ceased.

“What is this?”

Without warning, and instantly after he spoke, the white shield grew and instantaneously covered Del’s entire body. The light was blinding, and promptly grew in an intensity greater than a hundred suns. Everybody shut and shielded their eyes, some turning away to avoid it, and then it stopped.

Slowly, everyone recovered and gazed in amazement at the spot where Del once was. There was no hint of her presence and it seemed as though she was never there.

The cyborg sheathed his sword and he twisted his neck to look everywhere, crimson eye shining in the dark. Del was gone. Their target had escaped. The ploy was over.

After a while, following a search around the entire area, one of his goons bravely stepped up. “What do we do now sir?” he asked.

The suited man bore his lost gaze into the spot of where Del once laid, bloodied, exhausted  and at his mercy.

“Sir?”

“She won't survive. The injection is incurable. Only God can save her now.”

The soldier hesitated. “But sir, we were supposed to recover the corpse.”

The atmosphere grew grim, even the electricity seeming to dim as the suited cyborg glanced back at him, his red eye blinking, and in a flash, with the lights flickering, the man's head was lopped off following his glimpse at the gleaming edge of the cyborg’s bloodied, shattered blade.

The headless corpse fell over as the suited cyborg tossed his broken sword like it was trash.

“And now you're to blame,” he said coldly and walked away.

 


	2. Lost

At first, there was light. It filled every crevice of her vision. She could see nothing. Her senses were numb, gone, as if she didn't even possess a body, but still, she held onto her mind and consciousness. Her soul could never be dispersed, even in eventual death, for she would always be reborn anew. With the littlest of strings left connected in her consciousness, her thoughts seemed to linger on the recent betrayal. Jensen was a man she trusted, a man she thought she knew. In the end she knew nothing of him, only that he was but a lying sack of filth, but she could feel no rage, no sadness, only confusion in the state she was in.

She was but a loss spirit, weak and forgotten.

And then it all went dark. The bleak curtains closed over her yet again. The following silence was like a white noise drilling into her, discouraging her, devastating her drive.

_ “Looks like I'm starting all over again,”  _ her monotone voice reverberated. “ _ It's only going to get harder…” _

“ _ No matter how many times I return…” _

Her voices and thoughts were tossed and mixed around in chaos and muddlement.

_ “I never succeed…” _

The light began to come back.

_ “I always fail…” _

It began returning as a flicker.

_ “And in the end…” _

It grew increasingly stronger and stabler by the metaphysical second.

_ “And in the end it doesn't matter…” _

Finally, it illuminated to its greatest glory.

_ “Why do I try?”  _ she asked herself, knowing she had no answer.

She waited, reluctant to rejoin the light and be brought back forth to do everything again, in a different time and with different people.

“Because you are the balance,” a new voice intruded her thoughts.

Before she could react, colors of all sorts funnelled around in coalescing fusion, and she lost all consciousness in her godly soul, slipping off into spiritual slumber.

“Del…”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I do like the future in the past, especially of one so foreign and different.


End file.
